nickbennett_blog

Tag: Football

  • Super Mega Soccer League

    Super Mega Soccer League

    After Ian Ayre‘s comments about Liverpool FC monopolising the foreign TV rights, it also came out that foreign ownership could force there to be no relegation/promotion from the Premier League. This got my blood boiling to truly molten levels. It inspired my new sci-fi novel…enjoy!

    The year is 2045 and I’m sitting with the grandkids at 7am for the live football. It was decided that everyone using GMT would have to get up at this God-forsaken hour just to accommodate the rest of the World’s need for live action! The 100-inch 4D TV blurts out in a strong American accent ‘Live from Dubai, Barcelona Bears vs Munich Monarchs! That’s right folks it’s day 4 of the Super Soccer League’ I look up to see my eldest grandson wearing a Munich jersey. I tut loudly in his direction.

    ‘What?’ he asks.
    ‘You do realise that Bayern Munich is German?’.
    ‘Not anymore you old fool’ he beams back.

    The TV is showing the league table with only 8 teams still in existence. The London Lions are the only team left that I feel any sort of affiliation with. Especially since international football was cancelled because the players just ‘couldn’t be bovered’ anymore. Once every 4 years, the Lions come to London to play a game. There’s a lottery draw to decide which lucky 4000 non-corporate supporters can go.

    ‘You do realise we used to have a stadium just down the road don’t you’ I mention when the commentary cuts for yet another ad break.
    ‘Really grandad? Did the Madrid Matadors ever play there?’
    ‘erm no, we had our very own team called Southend United’
    ‘What a stupid name! Doesn’t have any threatening nouns in it’

    I decide not to mention the shrimp association.

    ‘Back then of course the names just represented the geological location of the team. They also played 50% of their games at their own stadium!’
    ‘Wow, how on earth did we manage to get enough prawns in for all of those spectators?’
    ‘Back then we used to call them fans and prawn sandwiches weren’t high on the menu. Football was a working-class thing’.

    The kids both look at me as if I’m completely mad. I continue regardless ‘you could buy a ticket watch some football and enjoy a burger, and a beer and still have enough for the bus fare home’. At this point, the ad break finishes and their attention is instantly pulled back to the large screen. The game kicks off and almost instantly there’s a challenge in the area that looks like a penalty. The game stops and the TV screen flashes ‘penalty?’. The two boys fight for the remote control to select their preferred outcome. Meanwhile, the channel cuts to another advert to give the general public time to decide on the penalty claim. I delicately place both barrels of the shotgun into my mouth and cock the hammer…

    I know what you’re thinking ‘surely shotguns won’t exist that far in the future’ but it’s a working progress.

    If we keep heading in this direction and allow foreign businessmen to have their way this bleak future will become a reality. You have been warned!

  • The winner is Sepp Blatter

    The winner is Sepp Blatter

    No, not the competition to find the world’s biggest numpty. No, unfortunately, this competition is for who will be in charge of running the greatest sport. He opposes technology which our beloved game is crying out for. He belittles women by stating that the women’s game could benefit ‘if they wore shorter shorts’. And thinks homosexuals should  ‘refrain from sexual activity’ while in Qatar. What century are we living in?

    Like everything in life, I try to look at things from a neutral perspective. I’m sure a lot of people believe the English are now coming across as sour grapes due to our disastrous world cup bid. But hang on, if Qatar had bribed their way to victory then why even allow us to enter? What a waste of time, money and Bryl Cream (remember David Beckham was involved). It’s good to see Australia (another stung nation) is demanding the money it spent on its bid back.

    I watched the poor FA representative say his bit in front of the baying wolves amongst the FIFA delegates. Then countries like Cyprus started sticking the knife in. I assume this is revenge for us tearing up Ayia Napa since the 90s. I can’t wait to give all these nations the bird when Sepp Blatter and his Forth Reich movement comes sweeping into their nation. OK probably gone a bit too far there, but there are some cultural points to be raised. Our nation has a live by the sword die by the sword approach to what we deem to be fair. Maybe a guilt trip since our empirical past but at the end of the day a good attitude to adopt. This is why we seem to commit so many troops to campaigns around the world to liberate them from tyranny (nothing to do with oil, purely coincidence)

    To bring fairness to the World Cup process it should do a cycle globally so that everyone gets a chance to host. FIFA should set out the requirements to be considered to host the thing. This would include stadiums, travel networks, hotels and policing. The globe should be divided into 4 sections and all of the eligible countries for each section should be put into a hat. A nation from each section of the globe is pulled out at random. The 1st section winner will be the next world cup host, the 2nd section winner will be the host of the world cup in 8 years’ time and so on and so forth. These nations are then excluded in the next round of World Cup draws. If you make a complete hash of the tournament then you miss a go. I’m not at all upset that Russia and Qatar have the World Cup gig. They’ve never had it before so that’s fair. The process to get to this result has to change though.

    How can the current system of schmoozing overly corrupt bureaucrats into voting for you be the process we currently adopt? FIFA is an organisation that apparently is built on ‘fair play‘?!? I guess ballot papers with 1 fucking name on it is also fair. Even if everyone abstained from voting I’m fairly certain Sepp would have voted and ‘Yeh! I won again!’ would be the scream at the end. Sepp Blatter is a complete hypocrite that we are now stuck with until the next FIFA elections. Given the choice of standing up against Sepp and his cronies or toeing the line I know which one I’m in favour of!

  • Gazza for England Manager

    Mental! I know, but hear me out. I’ve listened to a number of theories as to why England is so poor in this tournament and I don’t believe a single one. The fundamental thing is the players look tense and tired. This pressure is caused by the media’s ‘build them up to knock them down’ ethos (see previous rant). You look at some of the fearless teams (New Zealand being a prime example) and they’ve played well beyond any expectation. Can you imagine how England would play if they were relaxed!

    That’s where Gazza comes in. I’m not condoning red bus jaunts with dentist chairs and meat pies. However, Gazza would make training fun. The players may even start enjoying football again. Can you imagine Jimmy 5 bellies as his number 2, brilliant! What better example of getting someone crazy in charge than the Argies. Maradona has already mocked Pele, and Platini, and discussed his young girlfriend. This limelight is probably welcomed by his players as it leaves them to concentrate on the matter at hand (no pun intended). With a controversial manager at the helm, it can help produce a siege mentality which has proven very successful for one Jose ‘special one’ Mourinho.

    So if we go out tomorrow the following will happen, Capello will be paid a massive golden handshake and we’ll begin our search for another expensive manager. If the new manager is lucky he will see us exit another major tournament early doors. And the process will start again. Sound familiar? We could save our selfs a fortune by buying some Newcy Brown Ales and giving a call to the Newcastle priory!

  • Land of Hope and Glory?

    Have the English teams been overachieving recently? Of course, they have! You speak to anyone in Europe and they’ve spoken about the English game as if it’s the zenith of football. This year’s Champions League campaign just proves what can be achieved if you give your opposition the respect they deserve and not what you think they deserve.

    How many top stars does the premiership have? I mean top stars, stars that attract Pepsi. Precisely, last year as a neutral I enjoyed the Ballon d’Or as I had someone to cheer. Love him or hate him Christiano Ronaldo did his bit to promote the English game. Why didn’t we attract more top stars when our league was perceived to be the best? Simple, the weather. I’m sure you get to a point with your ludicrous wages that you can afford to take a 20k pay cut for a bit of sun and glamour. Man U, Man City, Liverpool, and even Arsenal will never be able to compete with the lure of playing for Barcelona, Real Madrid, or even AC Milan. I would have loved to have seen Ronaldinho in England but Milan or Manchester. If my knees were in better nick, my lungs weren’t that of a pensioner’s and I was any good at football I’d know who I’d pick. Well until Southend could afford me that is!

    What about Southend United I hear you shout. Well, relegation is looming and it looks as though our worst nightmares have come true. Depressing as it is watching League 1 on a Tuesday night over Champions League games, League 2 football is a whole new kettle of fish. If we survive financially in the coming months I’m sure we’ll be back. We have a great fan base and I’m sure we’ll keep the faith. Our latest court appointment with the tax man has been delayed by another week. To me, this makes no sense. I’m sure the ‘paid by the hour’ lawyers would be able to explain why it’s beneficial for the club to delay paying the tax man for as long as possible. I think the damage to morale, the further legal fees and the worry of the fans isn’t worth the week’s worth of bank interest. That is if we actually have the amount due of course!

    On lighter news Player are going to do one-off gig this summer so keep your diary free. I’ll keep you posted!

  • Love is egg shaped…or is it?

    I have a list of sporting venues and events I wish to see. On that list is Twickenham the home of English rugby. Some of my die-hard football fanatics had given their input on my decision to go. “Is it so you can stick your private part in a pint of Tetleys”, “It’s the strangest game with lots of handbells”, “The ref keeps pointing in the wrong bloody direction” etc. I’ve always quite enjoyed watching the six nations and Johnny Wilkinson’s drop goal to win the 2003 world cup is up there with my top sporting moments. My experience with the people that played rugby at university had been one of bemusement. Often seen vomiting into buckets or wearing very strange headgear. The cynical side of me did expect the crowd to be made up of wobbly mole’d Etonians that enjoyed nothing more than a linked arm sing-song of Jerusalem. I wasn’t disappointed.

    First a warning to anyone traveling to Twickenham by train. DON’T. It’s a mission and a half. The journey from Twickenham station to the ground is a good 15 minutes walk. This part of the journey was made worse by the pouring rain. As you meander through the residential area you are welcomed by homeowners selling hot dogs, doughnuts, and hog roast. A really nice touch.

    The Mrs and I arrived at the ground with an hour and a half to spare. It was OK though, as there are plenty of food, merchandise, and alcohol vendors around the perimeter of the ground. I spotted a merchandise stall selling the Lion’s red tour jersey for a discounted price, so I joined the very ad hoc queueing system. What made it worse was the number of school kids (presumably from Rugby clubs around the country) pushing in and causing carnage. It wasn’t just the kids though, adults also with the manners of a Mexican pimp were pushing in left right, and center. I remember thinking “Gentleman’s game eh?”. Eventually, I got the opportunity to shout “Large Red Lions Jersey Please” to the spotty youth behind the counter. The transaction was made and I was on my way. Better check the size…XL. RAGE!!!

    I go back and push into the front waving the shirt. Eventually, I get the guy that sold it to me’s attention. “You sold me the wrong size”. The spotty oick went to get his supervisor. “You need to go to the club shop to get it changed” the supervisor shouts. Bloody Brilliant. The stress levels have erupted. Cursing ensues as I make my way around the other side of the ground to find the shop. We get to the shop and the queue is even bigger than the previous one. I tell the guy guarding the exit door my dilemma, but he wasn’t interested and told me I’d need to join the queue. “We’re leaving!” is my reaction.

    The Mrs said, “No we’re not and grabs the jersey”. Forcing her way to the front of the initial merchandise stool she demands either a refund or the correct size. Nothing quite like a woman’s scorn to get the job done. Needless to say, we ended up with the correct size, but the tensions were still running high. We’ll laugh about this one day…mmmm. We decided to take our seats and enjoy the rest of the day.

    Twickenham itself is a lovely stadium and I’ve never heard such a stirring rendition of God save the queen. The game itself was very very poor. People around the ground were more interested in whether the numerous paper airplanes could make it onto the field of play. The only highlight of the first half was the precision kicking of Johnny Wilkinson. The second half was a lot livelier than the first, with several great plays causing me to stand from my seat for the first time. Eventually, England managed to break through the resilient Argy defense to score the only try of the game. In the final moments of the game Argentina was pushing for the try as England managed to hold on.

    Johnny Wilkinson miss
    Johnny Wilkinson miss

    If we thought getting to the ground was a pain we had a treat waiting for us on the journey back. The overground service didn’t run at the same regularity as the underground services you normally find situated near these venues. It took well over an hour to get from the ground to the train station. This isn’t a massive gripe as I’d expected this, the Mrs however was not impressed. Eventually, we get our train home, stop at the local curry house, grab a bottle of wine, and then we are home.

    Overall I’m glad I can say I’ve been and experienced it. I won’t be in any hurry to go back though. The atmosphere just isn’t the same at Rugby as it is at Football. Everyone always states that Rugby is such a happy friendly atmosphere, so much so that you can drink in the stadium. This is true because the game in front of them isn’t of the same intensity as that you experience with Football. I’ve been to some absolutely terrible Football games but the atmosphere has surpassed this 76,000 spectator spectacle. The behaviour of the people at rugby is also just as bad as football. The group of lads sitting next to the Mrs was having a farting competition…quite sophisticated high-brow stuff.

  • Beloved Blues Saved!

    Talk about last-minute reprieve. On the doorsteps of the courtroom, it was announced that the chairman Mr Ron Martin would settle the outstanding tax bill this Friday. Ron had promised that it ‘would go down to the wire’ and he wasn’t wrong. The more cynical side of me is thinking that maybe our media-hungry chairman had the money the entire time and the last-minute shenanigans were a bit of a PR stunt. The fans were not happy with Mr Martin being in this predicament in the first place. Especially as there was a promise made earlier in the year that we would have no problem in settling this bill. I’m hoping that this will be an end to the matter and that after Friday we can close this chapter on Southend United’s darkest hour….watch this space.

    Southend join several other clubs named recently as being taken to court by HMRC. Is it just the current global economic climate that so many clubs find themselves in this situation or is this the Government being tougher in an attempt to re-coop funds to make inroads in the country’s huge deficit? Either way, I believe although on the face of it football could be seen as a luxury item, it needs to survive for the sanity of everyone. With nothing but doom and gloom on every corner, it’s great to spend at least an hour and a half every week away from it all.

    As a club, we’ve never been excessive in any way. Our biggest-ever signing was Mike Marsh from Galatasaray in 1995 for £500k, we’ve been at the hall for over 30 years and have a history of selling on our biggest assets (most recently Freddie Eastwood and Nicky Bailey). The only reason we’ve come to this is that we’ve been trying to move the club forward into a new stadium. Then the economic meltdown happened…typical. The next hurdle for us is survival which even with our 10 points intact is still going to be a big test. Our fragile squad was tested last week, with Steve Tilson (our manager) dusting off the boots to take part in a mid-week Essex Senior Cup tie.

    Friday’s showdown with Gillingham was always going to be an uphill struggle. For once though luck was on our side. The Gills had a shot cleared off the line (which looked dubious) and a perfectly good free kick chalked off for pushing. The second half was completely dominated by Gillingham who brought on 3 subs and looked the fresher side. Then in the 92 minute, an intricate control/shot from Lee Barnard lifted all the blues supporter’s spirits, and the administrative hearing was forgotten (well at least for a brief moment). This blogger started hugging the old man next to him and it seemed appropriate at the time. So the FA cup is next up but we need something nearing a miracle as without top scorer Barnard and midfield lynchpin Alan McCormack I cannot see us getting anything at Gillingham. A real shame as the money from a Cup run could be very handy at the moment.